


Right Place, Right Time

by ShutUpandPull



Category: Castle
Genre: AU, Caskett, F/M, Hamptons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-04-11 23:10:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4456094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShutUpandPull/pseuds/ShutUpandPull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU meeting: Rick, Alexis and Martha head to the Hamptons for their annual July 4th trip, and though Rick is hoping for two weeks without any distractions, a very big one in the form of Kate finds him, nonetheless. (I've taken liberties...fiction, gratefully, allows me that)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm wandering into this one without a set course. I've been away for some time and these characters have suddenly crept back into my head. We'll just see where this all goes.

His daughter’s ginger-hued braids thumped in unison against her back as she bounded down the stairs, an overstuffed duffel bag in each hand, a backpack draped over one shoulder. At the first landing, she dropped her colorfully striped cargo with an unceremonious thud and took the final three stairs to the floor in one playful leap, her level of energy fueled admirably by her tremendous excitement. It was a day she looked forward to all year, a day that kicked off two weeks of non-stop fun, a day that meant freedom and flip-flops and rocket-shaped Popsicles, and she was long past ready to go.

“Clearly you inherited your packing tendencies from your grandmother,” Rick teased, the clamor of her arrival having drawn him from his office with worry over what disaster might await him beyond its walls. “I know it’s been a whole year, sweetie, but you do remember this is a two _week_ trip, not a two _month_ trip, right?” He moved toward her with furrowed brow and met her somewhere in the middle of the room.

“Dad,” she huffed exaggeratedly, as twelve-year-olds were often known to do, “it’s not that much stuff. A girl just needs to be prepared.”

“Definitely your grandmother,” he mumbled, pulling her in for a hug.                          

“At least I got your eyes, Dad,” she offered in consolation, her head angled back, her chin against his chest. A shiny distraction was often all it took with her father and she’d perfected the art.

“They are pretty spectacular, aren’t they?” He smiled with an almost-visible beam of pride and kissed her forehead. “Now, speaking of spectacular, where’s Mother? We need to get on the road if we want to have any chance against the holiday traffic rush.”

Alexis pushed back and took off towards the stairs. “Scotty’s bringing them over later, right? You said he was bringing them over. _Right_?”

“Well, I know it’s not your old age,” he called after her, “so I just have to assume all this private school money I’m dishing out year after year is being put towards things other than enhancing your memory skills. I’ve told you four times already, daughter of mine, yes, Scotty’s bringing the fireworks over later. And we might actually get to see them if we can ever get going.”

Alexis grabbed the railing and turned her attention upward. “Gram! Let’s go! We need to go!” she shouted with palpable impatience.

Rick grinned quietly, his excitement about their impending trip better concealed than hers, yet just as alive.

The click of heels along the upstairs hallway echoed a moment later, Alexis still at the bottom of the stairs, now with her hands on her hips, Rick tucking his phone and keys into his pockets.

“Honestly, darling girl, can’t we use our inside voices when we’re, you know, inside? I’m sure they must’ve heard you out on the street.” Martha appeared above them like the vision she knew she was. “And I don’t believe the Hamptons is going anywhere, so let’s just cool our jets, hmm.” She descended the stairs in leisurely fashion in her modest heels, no luggage of any kind in tow other than a green leather purse across her forearm.

“Sorry, Gram, I guess I’m just excited.”

“I know you are, darling.” She smiled and lovingly cupped Alexis’ cheek. “I am too.”

“Can I grab your bags, Mother?” Rick pulled Alexis’ pile from the landing and dropped it next to his by the front door.

“That would be lovely, dear, thank you.” She caught Alexis’ eye. “And be quick about it, would ya? We need to get on the road, already.” She winked and Alexis giggled.

Rick shook his head as he walked past the duo standing arm in arm - a team, two against one. “You two practice this routine often?”

“Oh, put a smile on that handsome face, my boy,” Martha hollered as he disappeared up the stairs and out of view. “We’re going on vacation.”

 

**xxxx**

 

The drive out of the city was tedious and longer than they’d all hoped, but the minute the house was in sight at the end of its long, tree-lined driveway, all frustration instantly dissipated. They all adored the Hamptons house, no one more than Rick, of course, whose blood, sweat, and tears (aka his words) financed every square inch of it. He played hard in his life, not even he would deny that, but he worked hard, too, doing something he loved, something he was good at - better than good, honestly. Better than most could ever hope to be. His name meant something, certainly in the literary world, and for someone who at one time in his life felt a bit lost in the wood, he took sincere pride in that. It wasn’t something he wore on his sleeve, but it was there and it ran deep.

It was majestic, their beach house with the East Hamptons address, not in the overt flash or opulence of so many others in the neighboring hamlets, but in its welcoming embrace. The moment one set eyes on it, one couldn’t help but want to be inside it, to feel it, to experience it – any number of people over the years had said so. With its golden shaker shingles, proud chimneys and rustic curves and angles, it was beautiful and painfully charming, yet it managed to take nothing away from the grandeur of the landscape that surrounded it. It was the very opposite of the boxy, dim, masculinely-sophisticated loft in which they lived most of their days and nights. That, too, had its undeniable gifts and rewards, but the air and light in their home away from the city was something they all felt a special appreciation for.

“At last, we meet again, old friend,” Rick cooed as he pulled the car up to the back entrance and killed the engine.

Martha turned to him from the passenger seat and grinned softly. Her son was not at all what so many thought he was, and she never tired of the moments that reminded her of that.

“Talking to the house again, Dad? Really?” Alexis poked her head between the two front seats. “And wasn’t this place just built, like, ten years ago? I’d hardly call it _old_.”

Martha snickered. “Come on, darling girl, give your father a break. It must be quite stressful being a world-famous author and dashing multimillionaire. We must forgive him his oddities.”

“Yes, thank you, Mother,” Rick replied sarcastically. “I’m sure that’s precisely where I got my oddities from,” he said as he looked her up and down, her clashing brights and giant floppy sun hat helping to bolster his less-than-subtle point. “Why don’t you and Alexis go open up and I’ll grab everyone’s bags. Scotty should have everything set up and running for us.”

Alexis was half out the back passenger door before he even finished his sentence, her braids bouncing again behind her. He sat and watched her, his wrist balanced atop the steering wheel. He often wondered what it was he did to deserve a kid like her, how someone so remarkable existed in his world every single day, someone he helped to create. He couldn’t write a better character, he knew. Words were hardly adequate.

“Earth to Richard, come in, Richard.” It was her third attempt at his attention before Martha finally snapped her fingers in his face.

“What? Mother,” he hissed with obvious confusion, “what are you doing?”

“Keys, dear, we need the keys if you want us to open up.” She held out her hand, the ring still dangling from his against the wheel. “And _I_ think you need this vacation more than any of us.”

Her words rang true, his frantic race to the finish line to get the last two chapters of his forthcoming book off to his editor had left his head spinning. Two weeks free of that burden was precisely what he needed - no deadlines, no distractions, just sand and sun and serenity. “You couldn’t be more right, Mother. This place is exactly what I need right now.”

 

**xxxx**

 

As always, Scotty had the place perfectly prepared for their arrival. He’d been with Rick since the purchase, keeping an eye on things, taking care of odds and ends in the off-season and in advance of Castle family visits from the city. He’d, sort of, come along with the place, something Rick never really questioned or objected to given the previous owners’ accolades, and he’d become a part of the family over the years. He knew everything about the Hamptons and about everyone who spent any significant time there, and whatever anyone needed he seemed to be able to get. Time and time again he’d proven himself invaluable, and Rick respected his care and loyalty.

“This is going to be the best year ever!” Alexis squealed as she and Rick dug through the crate of pyrotechnics Scotty left for them by the pool house. “Can we use _all_ of them, Dad?”

“Let’s just wait and see how things go,” he answered, with a chuckle of appreciation for her unending enthusiasm. “First we need to practice our annual rain dance because they were talking about thunderstorms on the news this week.”

“Don’t jinx it by saying it out loud, Dad!” she bit back.

“Right, sorry. I’m sure it’ll all work out just fine,” he assured her in a confident, fatherly tone as he piled the fireworks back up. “You want to go for a walk on the beach before dinner?”

“Sure, yeah, I just need to go change my shoes,” she said, running off without a moment’s pause.

“Oh, Alexis, grab my binoculars for me while you’re in there,” he yelled after her, a silent wave of hand her only acknowledgment. He rarely went down to the beach without them - perfect for people-watching, a habit his inner-author could never seem to break. He was fascinated by them, people, of all kinds, but especially by those who didn’t think anyone was watching.

 

**xxxx**

The three walked down the beach for what seemed like miles before they finally turned around and headed back towards home, Martha along for the first night’s journey, the sun less hot and more golden than when they’d set out. Alexis and Rick planted themselves in the sand in anticipation of the main event, the sunset view they marveled at each and every time they had such a front row seat for it, while Martha opted to retire to the house for a glass of wine, the beach insects, she swore, having done a number on her exposed skin during the walk. They both knew it was an excuse, shared a knowing look over it, and sent her along with their blessing. She was Martha, in the city or at the beach.

It was a picture-perfect first evening, Alexis with her toes in the sand and her camera at the ready, Rick with his binoculars at his eyes in search of whatever or whoever might stumble into view. He scanned the waterline, up and down the beach, most families and sunbathers packed up and gone for the day until they’d return to do it all again tomorrow. He thought he heard a voice call out as he panned slowly left, but he paid little attention at first, its tone seemingly not one of concern. It wasn’t until the second and third shouts that followed that he made any real effort to try to locate their point of origin.

He pulled the binoculars away from his eyes for a wider view and spotted someone running after a large black dog, running in their direction, running fast, it appeared. He raised the specs again for a better look and that’s when he really saw her for the first time. _She_ was the one running vigorously down the beach, but in that instant it was almost as though he was the one at a loss for breath.

“Dad, check it out.” Alexis pointed to draw his attention to the fleeing dog with its leash dragging along behind it. “She’s trying to catch him. I’m going to help!” She was up and out of the sand, barefoot and gone before he could get a word out.

“Ale-” His voice dropped off, looking on as his daughter and the unknown pursuer attempted, together, to intercept the four-legged escapee, never moving a muscle to, himself, intervene. He was frozen. He was entranced. The scene, the woman grew more fascinating to him with each stride nearer. 

A moment later, he watched as Alexis and the stranger congratulated each other with a ceremonial high-five. They’d done it. The dog sat between them, his leash now tight in hand, the grateful-for-the-freedom vibe he radiated entirely familiar to Rick. Alexis let out a laugh as she ran her hand between the dog’s ears, the woman’s words of thanks visible to him through the aid of his magnifying lenses. He’d never seen her there before; he’d surely remember. He didn’t know her, didn’t know anything about her, but suddenly that was all he wanted.

So much for two weeks with no distractions.


	2. Chapter 2

Alexis plopped down onto the sofa next to Martha, the cushion beneath her absorbing the harsh impact with silent grace. Her grandmother, already on her second glass of Lapierre Morgon, barely had time to close the book in her other hand before the play-by-play of the canine caper out on the beach spilled out of Alexis’ mouth in one long, breathless sentence. She beamed with pride as she recounted her critical role in the thrilling capture, Martha entirely impressed, Rick entirely immersed in his own world.

“Well, that’s quite a tale, kiddo. Pay kindness forward is what I always say.”

Alexis turned to her with furrowed brow. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that, Gram.”

Martha drank down the last two sips of wine. “Well, I always think it. That should count for something, right?” She pushed herself forward to the edge of the sofa. “Your daughter tells quite a story, Richard,” she called out across the room. “You never know. We might end up with _two_ best-selling authors under our roof one day.”

Rick stood motionless, his hands braced in front of him against the marble countertop, his attention focused on absolutely nothing and no one at all. It was as though she’d put some kind of a spell on him, the captivating stranger from the beach, the one with the swooping-arm run and electric smile. She wasn’t just another person on the other end of his eyes-on-the-world binoculars. She was different. He had no idea why. He had no idea how. He only felt inside him that she was. And he had no idea what the hell to do about it.

"Are you going to put the water on, Dad?” Alexis moved closer, her assignment to fetch Martha’s wine bottle halted by his troubled expression. “Dad? Hello. Lobster? Boiling water?” She finally nudged his elbow with her own, her words entirely unacknowledged.

“Sure, I’d love some,” he answered incongruously.

Alexis looked to Martha and then back to her father.

“Sounds like someone got too much sun, hmm?” Martha quipped and pushed back against the cushions. “Pace yourself, Richard, it’s only day one.”

 

**xxxx**

 

Rick woke up restless the following morning, not that he’d actually slept all that much. Despite the comfort of his accommodations and the peaceful silence of his surroundings, he’d tossed and turned like the sea for most of the night. He felt like a fool, staring at the blue neon of his bedside clock as it struck dawn. She just wouldn’t go away, whoever _she_ was. She was like a carnival game in his mind, popping up here and there and everywhere, but the cruel joke was that in this version of the game he didn’t have a mallet to keep her away. He’d experienced a pull like this toward a few of his fictional characters over the years as he’d brought them to life on the page, but never to anyone so real, so here, so on his very beach.

He pushed himself out of bed with a frustrated huff and padded across the floor to the closet. He pulled on whatever came out of his bag and the top drawer first and stopped in the bathroom to run a toothbrush through his morning breath. Proper grooming would have to wait for a decent hour and a few dozen shots of caffeine, the latter of which he needed desperately. He scribbled a note for the girls, left it where he thought they’d find it and headed for town.

He leaned back in his chair outside The Golden Pear, the early-morning holiday hour affording him a coveted seat without a wait. It was more humid than hot, not uncomfortably so with the light breeze’s aid. The aroma of his double shot espresso aroused his senses, at least enough that he could finally see straight, finally feel somewhat human despite the night he’d had.

He angled his wrist to check the time, his intention to have muffins and fresh-squeezed juice waiting for the girls for breakfast before they got up, but he’d forgotten to put on his watch before he left, so he reached into his pocket for his phone. It was just a quick flash, a glimpse of something in his peripheral vision as he pulled the device up to eye level. Temporarily distracted by the movement, he looked up and saw a large black dog, just a step or two from his table, and connected to him by a bright red leash was his present preoccupation, her, the woman from the beach.

His phone crashed to the ground instantly, his hand abruptly void of control, but by the time he gathered himself enough to bend down to retrieve it, she was already offering it to him from her own hand.

“At least you didn’t drop the coffee. That would’ve been a real tragedy,” she teased with a gentle smile.

He racked his brain for words, but it failed him completely. He was a writer, a best-selling one at that, and he had zero, nothing, a total blank. “Yeah, I--” was all he managed to piece together after an awkwardly long pause. He took the phone from her, memorizing every bit of her that he could in his weakened state. “Thanks.” It came out with an embarrassing squeak and he cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

“No problem at all,” the woman replied casually as though something remarkable hadn’t just happened. “Come on, Baxter. Let’s go, boy.” She tugged on the bright red leash and the dog responded enthusiastically to her tone. “Well, Happy 4th,” she said as she made her exit into the near-empty, humid street and crossed to the other side.

“Happy 4th,” Rick mumbled after her, in a voice not even loud enough that someone seated next to him might hear, let alone the intended recipient.

His mother, Alexis and their surprise breakfast muffins would have to wait. A second espresso was now an absolute necessity.

 

**xxxx**

 

The girls were both awake when he arrived home, the television on and tuned to the local news in hopes of some good news about the day’s weather. Things didn’t look entirely promising at the moment, the skies hazy and grey, but there were hours and hours to go until the fireworks extravaganza and the annual rain dance hadn’t yet been performed to its full potential - one early practice run surely didn’t count.

Rick plated the pastries he brought home and took his usual spot on the sofa, the espressos he’d downed seemingly no match for his lingering fatigue. He stretched his body and yawned, the resulting sound one of otherworldly origin, Alexis and Martha both snapped upright by its discourteous invasion.

“I’m not quite sure they heard you in Sagaponack, Richard,” Martha wisecracked. “Best try again, dear.”

He felt his face flush with embarrassment. “Sorry, I guess I didn’t get much sleep last night.” He adjusted his position, his phone slipping from his pocket onto the floor. He couldn’t help but smile as he reached down to retrieve it, his eyes fixated on it for far longer than one might consider normal.

“What’s with the face, Dad?”

Her words jerked him back from his moment of reverie. “What’s with...what do you mean? What face?”

Alexis shook her head and shrugged. “You’ve been acting weird since last night. Well, weird _er_ than usual. What’s up with you?”

“I told you I didn’t get much sleep, that’s all,” he replied defensively. “Can we just watch the news, please, so we can go out to the pool?” He was well in need of the cold water on his face - his weird face, apparently.

 

**xxxx**

 

They spent all day out at the pool, the sun’s arrival shortly after lunchtime a most welcome sight. It was still quite warm, but the heavy air had dissipated with the cloud cover. The pool water was an ideal 81 degrees, and Rick floated in its calmness for hours, dozing off from time to time - an inevitability, all things considered.

The fireworks were set for 9 PM off Montauk, the view from their favorite spot on the beach always perfect for taking them in. They had their own stash at the ready, as they did each year, Scotty having taken care of the necessary permit and the stockpile that Alexis was just itching to dive into.

“What time do you want to eat, Richard?” Martha asked from her umbrella-shaded lounge chair, a new script in one hand, a drink of indescribable color in the other.

Rick popped one eye open from his floating chaise, his sense of time lost long ago in the warmth of the sun’s rays. “I thought I’d start the grill around 6 PM, why?”

She stole a peek at her watch. “Then you’d better get your pruny behind out of that pool and into the shower, that is, if you can manage to pry yourself from that chair you’ve been in all day.”

“It’s called vacation, Mother. Some of us are just better at it than others, I guess.” He slid from the chair and dipped beneath the water for a final rinse, his hands popping up along the pool’s edge in front of her. “And I told you I’d buy you a chair too, I seem to remember. No need for the passive-aggressive envy.”

Martha chuckled as he climbed out. “I’m on my fourth fruity drink, my boy,” she said, her glass raised toward him. “No one vacations better than I.”

He grabbed his towel, its plush cotton warm from the sun, and he shook the water from his hair. “You’re a role model for us all, truly.” He stopped suddenly and looked around. “Where’s Alexis?”

“She went in a little while ago to get cleaned up. She’s going down to the beach to meet her new pal for a walk before dinner, as I understand.” She stood and pulled off her sunglasses, gathered up the rest of her things.

“Her new - what new pal is this? She always likes to help with the grill. Why would she be going out there now?”

“You can’t have dogs on the beach before 6 PM, she said.”

“Dogs?” It didn’t sink in at first. He didn’t realize.

“So many questions, Richard, honestly.” She began to walk away. “Why don’t you just go inside and ask her if you don’t like my answers, darling.”

He stood alone for a moment, confused, before it actually hit him: Alexis. Beach. Dog. Pal. He took off then in a run, rushing past Martha with her hands full of pool day paraphernalia and barreling through the side door of the house without bothering to close it behind him.

“Alexis!” he shouted in echo as he charged toward the kitchen.

“You don’t need to yell, Dad. I’m right here.” She was parked on a stool at the kitchen counter, her phone in hand.

“Richard?” Martha called out from a distance, clearly confused and concerned about her son’s sudden dead sprint to the house.

“Why is everyone yelling?” Alexis asked into the air.

“You’re going down to the beach?” He hadn’t intended it to sound so dire, like he’d just found out she was fleeing the country to Canada or some such place.

“Richard?” Martha continued her vociferous quest as she walked the hallway in search of him.

“Yes, Mother, I’m here,” he huffed.

“I don’t know what’s going on, Dad, but, yes, I’m going down to the beach. I told you about this earlier.”

Martha entered the room with her usual flourish, now with an added dash of bemusement. “What is going on, Richard?”

Alexis spun around on the stool. “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

Rick looked from one to the other and back again. He realized this entire scene would be comedic if an outsider were watching it unfold. “Just - Alexis, what friend is this you’re meeting at the beach? And, for the record, you didn’t tell me _anything_ about this earlier.”

“Well, I meant to,” she replied, her tone utterly pre-teenesque. “It’s not a big deal, Dad. I’m just going to meet Kate for a walk with Baxter. They walk on the beach every night and she said I could come.”

Rick swallowed hard and steadied himself against the edge of the counter.

“There you go, dear. She’s just going for a walk, not staging a coup.” Martha dropped all of her stuff onto the counter. “She’ll be back in time for dinner. Won’t you, Alexis?”

“I’d never miss Dad’s famous pre-fireworks filet dinner.”

His towel dropped from his shoulder to the floor and he let it fall.

“You didn’t tell me she had a name,” he mumbled.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

It took Rick several minutes to find the strength to move from the spot where he stood, the kitchen counter like a crutch he needed to maintain his balance. Alexis was long gone, with a kiss to his cheek designed to bring him luck in his efforts to, as she put it, “chill out and act normal,” though he still couldn’t envision a way to accomplish either. Now she had a name. Her name was Kate. It was difficult enough for his brain when she was just The Stranger. He had no idea what the hell he was supposed to do with this new revelation.

Richard Castle had no difficulty finding women. Richard Castle only had problems finding good women, and for a time, in the beginning of his existence as the self-named mystery novelist, that didn’t much matter to him. Success in the literary world brought along with it many benefits, and early on he enjoyed them to the fullest, without apology. His novels were on shelves next to contemporary greats in his field like Patterson, Connelly and Lehane, and that level of fame yielded all manner of female companion, most of whom, in the end, only had eyes for flashbulbs and dollar signs. Now he had nearly two divorces under his belt - one of which was currently still in process - and a growing weariness of the entire game. Alexis was the only thing he’d done right in all of it. On most days, he hated to think about where he’d be without her.

His absolute fascination with this woman - with this _Kate_ \- he’d seen only twice rattled him. A byproduct of his craft, he always watched people, studied them, and many of them remained with him long after as inspiration in some small way. Attributes and mannerisms of many became part of his chapters, made his characters more human. But she was different, and he didn’t know why. He didn’t want to write her, to turn her into someone else for the purpose of filling a page. He didn’t know exactly what he wanted, but he was certain that wasn’t it.

 

**xxxx**

 

The heat from the grill hit him like an invisible wave and he took a step back, a flame rising from beneath the grates and dancing in its newfound freedom. The ice in his scotch had already melted, and the glass left a cold sweat on his palm as he set it back down.

“How’s everything inside, Mother? Do I still have a kitchen?”

Martha was in the midst of setting their places at the table outside, Mother Nature still thankfully cooperating with their July 4th holiday tradition. “Your faith in me never ceases to amaze, kiddo. I’ve played many a challenging role in my life, thank you very much. I believe Woman Who Boils Water is one I can handle with aplomb.”

“I bet you can,” he chuckled, ever-entertained by and thankful for her wit and divine sarcasm. “Well, as usual, I’ve outdone myself with the protein portion of our Feast of the 4th.” He set down his grill fork and closed the lid. “I’m going to run in and drop the linguine into the pot and we should be just about ready to go - that is, if my daughter ever decides to join us.”

Martha followed him inside, just a step behind. “So dramatic, Richard. Alexis knows what time dinner is served. She’ll be here.” She leaned into him, put her arm around his shoulder as he inspected the boiling water. “She’s right, you know. You have been acting a bit peculiar. Try taking a few deep breaths, hmm? Lighten up a litt--”

Before she could finish her final word of wisdom, a loud crash echoed down the hallway from the front door. It startled them both, Martha’s fingers clenched around Rick’s forearm, both of them spinning around for a look.

“Dad!” they heard, followed by a repetitive and nearing _click, click, click_.

Suddenly it appeared, a large black dog in the middle of the kitchen as though he knew the place as his own, as though he knew just where to find them.

“What in the...” Martha exclaimed, the dog now seated before her in apparent wait of something she wasn’t yet aware of.

Rick took a step forward, the attentive canine’s eyes on him as he moved. “Alexis?” he called out as she rounded the corner and came into sight.

“Dad, hey, sorry. He has a _lot_ of energy. The walk didn’t seem to help that very much.” She bent down on one knee and called him over. “Baxter, come here, boy. Leave Gram alone. Come on.”

The dog came without hesitation, his gratitude for the attention expressed in a kiss upon Alexis’ chin.

“Alexis, I guess I have any number of questions right now, but why don’t we start with this one: Why is there a big, black dog with an abundance of energy in my kitchen?”

She didn’t know what to say, and the expression on her face made that quite clear. But from the silence came a response Rick didn’t expect, from a person he didn’t expect.

“I’m - that would be my fault.” Kate stepped into view, her tone already filled with the apology she hadn’t yet given voice to, her hand raised meekly in acceptance of responsibility for the current state of affairs. “I’m very sorry. And Baxter’s very sorry too.”

Baxter let out a bark as if on cue.

“That dog lands a line better than a lot of my co-stars have, I’ll give you that,” Martha quipped.

Rick just stood there, dumbfounded. First she was on his beach, then she was on his sidewalk, and now she was in his house. Kate, the until-ninety-minutes-ago nameless woman who’d invaded his mind, was in his house, mere feet from him, and she was even more spectacular than he’d remembered.

“Oh, hi, you’re the...how’s your phone?” Kate’s voice was soft with surprise as the memory of her early-morning encounter with Rick struck her.

“What happened to your phone, Dad?”

“You two know each other?” Martha inquired with an impish grin. “Is that so?”

Rick never took his eyes off Kate, even when she looked away. “I--” No words came out when he tried to answer.

Martha abruptly moved in toward her. “Well, well, since my son isn’t going to introduce us, I’m Martha. Welcome to our home away from home.” She reached a hand out for Kate’s and fanned disapprovingly at Rick with the other. “I swear I raised him with better manners than this,” she insisted.

“Sorry, Gram,” Alexis chimed in. “This is Kate. I met her on the beach with Baxter last night. She’s the one from the story.”

Kate rubbed Baxter between the ears with her free hand, Martha still with a grip on the other. “Yeah, Alexis, here, was my hero last night. God only knows how far Baxter would’ve gone if she hadn’t jumped in to help.”

Rick watched it all unfold - his mother and his daughter and the big, black dog and Kate. Somehow, before him was both the most simple and the most complex scene he could possibly imagine. He just couldn’t wrap his head around it. But she was there and she was real. He could smell the salt air on her, see her smile, hear her words.

“Well, my granddaughter _is_ a genius. This, we’ve known for years.” Martha leaned in closer to Kate. “Takes after my side of the family, of course,” she boasted shamelessly.

“So, how do you know Kate, Dad? You didn’t say anything when we were out on the beach last night.”

He hadn’t kept track of any of the questions that’d been posed during the conversation, barely heard a word, and he struggled as he tried to remember how to speak. “I, uh, I didn’t-- I didn’t know her last night.” Even as he said it, it felt strange, but it was true. He saw Kate for the first time last night out on the beach, and yet something about her felt utterly familiar to him, like she’d been with him always.

“We met this morning, actually,” Kate jumped in in rescue. “Well, not so much met as shared a brief moment, you could say. Your dad dropped his phone and I picked it up was all.”

“Ah, so you paid a bit of the hero forward, it seems,” Martha chimed in. “How lovely.” She looked to Rick. “I sure hope you did manage to thank her, dear. Words don’t seem to be your strong suit today. Ironic given your life’s work,” she muttered.

In the ensuing moment of semi-awkward silence, Martha looked back over her shoulder at the noisy pot of boiling water which all but demanded attention. “Perhaps we should get the pasta going, Richard. The fillets are going to be as hard as rocks in a few minutes.”

“Oh, hey, Dad, is it okay of Kate stays for dinner? She didn’t have any plans and I told her we’d have plenty. You know you always make way too much.”

Kate. _Stay_. Like Alexis had given him any choice. Like he was actually going to let her go anywhere.

“Please, I don’t want to intrude on your family dinner. Baxter and I will be just fine, Alexis, thank you.” Kate took a step backwards. “Come on, boy.” She grabbed for the dog’s collar. “It was very nice to--”

“No, please stay,” Rick insisted, somehow finding his voice in the face of her imminent departure. “Kate, please, we’d be happy to have you join us, really - you _and_ Baxter.” Their eyes met and remained, unwavering.

Martha sprang back into the kitchen for the linguine, while Alexis grabbed an extra place setting for the table outside.

Rick closed the distance between himself and Kate and extended his hand. “I’m Rick. Thanks again for rescuing my phone.”

Kate looked down and reciprocated with a smile. “I’m Kate. Phone Rescuer extraordinaire.”

Martha and Alexis stood together at the kitchen counter and looked on silently before simultaneously turning toward one another as if rehearsed. In that moment, it was very clear to both that they were thinking the very same thing.


	4. Chapter 4

The sun drifted slowly downward and finally disappeared as the group of four dined around the candlelit table out on the patio, the swirls of pink and purple in the evening sky it left behind something far beyond the adequacy of mere worldly adjectives. The air was laced with humidity, not enough to feel oppressive, but certainly enough to understand and appreciate that summer was now in charge of the calendar.

Baxter rolled from side to side at Kate’s feet, a passed over bowl of cold water nearby, his relentless demand of attention both shameless and endearing. She surreptitiously peered down at him from time to time and grinned softly, hoping he wouldn’t meet her eye for fear of triggering a new wave of energy, while Rick did the same to her, yet with very different reasons for his furtiveness. The two were seated across the rectangular table from one another, Martha and Alexis at each end - a wholly calculated suggestion of Martha’s that she’d cloaked in absurd reasoning that Rick was too distracted to question - and he simply couldn’t help himself, Kate’s smile as bright as a beacon in a storm. 

“This was really good, Dad.” Alexis’ plate was nearly clean already, her singular focus the crate of Scotty’s fireworks that awaited her down by the pool.

“Yes, darling, I second that.” Martha raised her glass of wine in Rick’s honor and drank down a ceremonial gulp. “You are a master of words _and_ of summer holiday feasts.”

“Well, thank you,” he replied modestly. “I didn’t really do all that much, but I’m glad you like it.”

Martha and Alexis shared a perplexed look across the table over his very un-Richard Castle-like response. On any normal evening he would’ve rambled on and on shamelessly about his great grill prowess and how no one else in the Hamptons could hold a spatula to his talents. It was obvious to them that this wasn’t any normal evening - not anymore, not with Kate there.

“At the risk of sounding like I’m jumping on the bandwagon, I have to agree with Alexis and Martha on this one, Rick. Everything is delicious. Really, thanks to all of you for including me tonight. This definitely beats anything I could’ve dug out of the back of the refrigerator.”

Kate smiled at Rick again and his pulse quickened. 

“Oh, no thanks needed, dear. Any friend of Alexis’ is a friend of ours,” Martha cheered.

“We’re all glad you could stay,” Rick added, his fingers nervously twisting the stem of his glass. None of them was more glad than he was.

Alexis let her fork fall to her plate, shattering the brief silence that followed, the clank startling and invasive. “Is it okay if I go call Lauren, Dad? I want to make sure she gets here before we start.” Her hands were already around the edge of her plate, her body ready to leap from her chair with his grant of permission.

“Sure, sweetie,” he chuckled. “I doubt I could stop you if I wanted to.”

She practically jumped out of her chair and headed for the door with a fading “Nope, you couldn’t!”

In quick recognition of the opportunity Alexis’ absence set before her, Martha, thought not yet finished with her meal, stood up to follow. “I’m--I’m just going to go in and get some more wine, you two. Can I bring anyone anything?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Kate and Rick answered in unison, their eyes drawn together in acknowledgment of the coincidence of timing.

Martha tiptoed away with a dance in her step and a Cheshire Cat grin on her face. It was almost too delicious to be true.

 

**xxxx**

Alexis and Martha huddled together, pressed against the glass of a downstairs window that afforded them an unobstructed view of the dining table out on the patio, the lights turned off around them so as not to be discovered in what could only be construed as full snoop-mode. This wasn’t anything either had imagined might come of the evening when it began in the surprising way it did, but it was obvious to both that the universe was up to something by bringing Kate into their path, and they were definitely ready and willing to play along.

“I dare say your father is smitten, kiddo. I can see it in his eyes. Years of practice with my leading men have given me a gift.” Martha straightened up and allowed Alexis to lean in closer.

“Do you think this is why he’s been acting so weird since last night? Because of Kate?” She turned and looked up at Martha. “Maybe we shouldn’t have left him alone with her out there. God only knows what he’ll say.”

“Nonsense, darling, just look at them. They’re smiling and laughing and enjoying each other’s company.” Her giddiness was palpable.

Alexis exhaled a single burst of laughter. “Yeah, I just hope she isn’t laughing _at_ him.”

Martha put her hands on Alexis’ shoulders and nodded. “I’ll drink to that. Speaking of which, I best go find some more wine so I don’t blow my cover. See you back out there. Think romance, darling,” she sang as she fluttered from the room.

 

**xxxx**

 

Kate leaned back into her chair, the soft light from the interior room behind her dropping over her like a halo. “So, I have a tiny confession to make.”

“Oh?” Rick wondered aloud, all at once intrigued and a mess of nerves, afraid which one his expression projected as he awaited her forthcoming admission.

She exhaled an amused chuckle, and it was obvious to him, then, what she must’ve seen in his face, in his body language. “You didn’t invite a serial killer to dine with your family, don’t worry. Although, in your line of work that might’ve come as a welcome surprise.”

He sputtered awkwardly. “No, I--”

“I’m actually a fan of yours,” Kate announced before he could finish. “I’ve read your books.” She looked down at Baxter as though suddenly rendered demure by her declaration. “I recognized you this morning outside the coffee shop, from your book photos. I’m sure people come up to you and bother you all the time, so I decided not to say anything, but a part of me wanted to for a minute there.”

He felt instant and glorious relief. “Well, first,” he began after a welcome return of air to his lungs, “that’s very flattering, thank you. Second and more importantly, a beautiful woman introducing herself as a fan of mine is _never_ a bother,” he added playfully.

“Happens a lot, does it?” she quipped without a moment’s pause.

“Whatever rumors you’ve heard, I can assure you, are, at least, 75 percent false.” Rick grinned mischievously and relaxed back into his own chair. “And, since you were so bold, I suppose it’s time for _my_ own tiny confession. That seems only fair.”

Kate crooked her eyebrow with exaggerated interest and leaned forward, elbows balanced atop her knees in anticipation. “Well, I didn’t expect it, but I can’t wait to hear it.”

“I actually recognized you this morning, too, but it wasn’t so much that I _didn’t_ say anything as I _couldn’t_.” For a man who’d nearly forgotten how to speak an hour ago, he almost couldn’t believe what he was about to say, but he found he couldn’t stop himself, either. “Yeah, I, uh-- I was watching you on the beach last night with Alexis and, for some reason, I haven’t been able to get you off my mind since, so when I looked up this morning and you were standing there, I became a total bumbling idiot. I couldn’t come up with one damn thing to say.”

“Oh, come on, ‘bumbling’ seems a bit harsh, don’t you think?”

He squinted his eyes at her with feigned indignity. “Very funny. Yes, thank you for that. You’re clearly a very perceptive woman, Kate. Usually it takes people _two_ meals to realize I’m an idiot.”

Her face lit up in a magnificent smile and Rick felt his entire body calm. He wasn’t one who’d ever appreciated talk of human energy or vibes, but he couldn’t deny that being around her had a physical effect on him, far beyond that of simple attraction, and it grew stronger with each passing moment.

"Have no fear, the wine is here.” Martha’s return caught them both off guard, their reactions clear evidence. “Oh, I’m sorry, darlings, have I interrupted something because I can-”

Rick pushed out of his chair and graciously relieved her of one of the bottles. “Not at all, Mother,” he insisted. “Kate was just insulting me, and I was praising her for her astuteness. More wine feels like a natural next step.” He turned his attention to Kate with a bright smile of his own. “Would you agree?”

“Hey, when it feels right, it feels right,” she answered without hesitation, extending her glass.

For the remainder of their meal, Rick tried futilely to remember anything at all that’d ever felt as right to him as Kate did.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Alexis and Lauren were already down by the pool house with a stash of sparklers by the time the adults finished with dinner. Gleeful giggles floated their way up to the patio on the breeze that’d settled in with the summer evening’s darkness, and Alexis’ calls for her father grew more persistent as the minutes passed.

Having assured his impatient daughter with a holler of his own that he’d be down soon, Rick cleared the last of the dishes from the table outside and carried them to the kitchen, the counters already cluttered with spent pots, pans and utensils from his meal’s preparation. He sighed as he took it all in. The aftermath was the worst part of every holiday feast, to be sure.

Rick’s eyes scanned the room as he set the last of the dishes down on the island. “Where’s Kate?” he asked Martha, her gloved hands wrist deep in soap suds at the sink.

“She just ran off to the little girl’s room, dear.” She turned slowly and peered at him over her shoulder. “Miss her already, do we?” Her eyes nearly closed shut from the intensity of her beaming smile.

His body jolted and he fumbled awkwardly with his collector’s set of _Star Wars_ themed salt and pepper shakers as though he’d been caught red-handed in the middle of a crime. “Ah, it was just a simple question, Mother,” he snapped, managing to quickly compose himself for a frightfully overzealous defense. “Leave it to you to turn it into some kind of soap opera moment.”

Without a blink, she twisted the faucet off and spun around, bubbles and tiny sprays of water from her dish gloves launched every which way. “ _Me?_ Honestly, Richard. You were the one making goo-goo eyes all through dinner. The only soap I’m responsible for tonight is this.” She flicked her fingers in his direction and sent suds arching through the air.

He swiped at his water-speckled cheek with his thumb. She was entirely right. And he hated that.

“Clearly I shouldn’t have let you open that third bottle of wine, Mother. No more for you, young lady,” he teased.

God, he hoped Kate hadn’t noticed, too. His brow furrowed in panic at the thought.

“That girl is a true beauty, Richard. Really, who could blame you? And, not to worry, your secret is safe with me.” She extended a dripping hand. “Now, hand me those glasses, if you please. I’m going to clean all of this up and you’re going to take that lovely girl down to the beach with Alexis and her girlfriend and enjoy tonight’s show, all right?”

He moved in beside her as she pivoted back toward the sink and he kissed her on the cheek. No one knew him better than she did. Really knew him. “She is, isn’t she?” he all but whispered, lost in a sudden reverie. Martha looked at her son and grinned softly, her encouragement unspoken yet as clear as day.

“Can I help with something?” The voice came unexpectedly from somewhere nearby. Rick and Martha both turned to find Kate standing at the island behind them, both left to wonder how long she’d been there and how much she may have heard.

“Don’t be silly, Katherine.” Martha spoke up first. “I have everything well in hand,” she insisted, though, at the moment, the kitchen reflected quite the contrary. “Richard?” she added, less a question than a prompt.

“Absolutely, yes, Mother’s got this covered. Ah, would you, maybe, like to come down to the beach with Alexis and me to watch the fireworks? That is unless you have other plans. I don’t want to--”

“I’d love to,” Kate interrupted with a smile.           

“Good. Great,” he said in calm tone, doing his best to swallow his elation, play it cool.

“Would it be okay if I left Baxter here with you, Martha? It might be better if he’s inside before the fireworks start, with the noise and all. I don’t want him taking off again.”

“Of course, of course. We’ll hold down the fort together, he and I. You two go find the girls and enjoy yourselves. I’m sure they’re probably hoarse from all that yelling.”

Rick kissed her cheek again. “Thank you, Mother.”

Martha hummed devilishly. “Blankets are over there.”

 

**xxxx**

 

Kate made her way back across the lawn towards Rick, the dancing spray of the girls' sparklers illuminating her form from behind. She was taller than he'd realized, almost regal in her step, not that he'd had much time to process such things. There was something in the way she carried herself: the line of her shoulders, her strides long and decisive. They demonstrated a palpable confidence that he longed to feast on. There were countless things about her he yet didn't know, and he wanted nothing more than the opportunity to change that.

"She's a really great kid," Kate said with a glance over her shoulder at the giggling girls running after each other in figure eight fashion in the middle of the yard. "Well, not that I need to tell you that." She rolled her eyes in the darkness at her own foolishness. "Sorry."

Rick chuckled at her adorable attempt to backtrack, before his tone became noticeably thoughtful. “I'm still not entirely sure what it is I've done in my life to deserve a kid like her." If adoration could’ve been captured in one look, in that instant, it would've been his. "She's the reason I'm anything." He became lost in the moment and fell silent, his eyes focused beyond Kate on Alexis.

Kate reached out and touched his arm, drawn by his tender words, those most honest few not on the page of any book. "You really do have a way with words." Her voice was so soft it was almost as though she'd spoken aloud without any actual intention to do so.

She didn’t move her hand away immediately, and it took Rick a moment to pull his attention from Alexis who was laughing so hard, the sound of it had fallen nearly silent. There were moments in his life with his daughter that he wished he could imprint onto his memory forever, somewhere deep where the fog of future days and years could never roll in and obscure his view. This was just such a moment, and its power was profound.

“God, I love that sound,” he uttered, finally, in an exhale laced with audible gratitude. He smiled softly and turned his eyes to Kate who hadn’t looked away from him for a second, not because she wouldn’t, but because it was almost as though she couldn’t.

“Rick,” she said as she moved in a step, their bodies already close, her fingers wrapped around his arm just above his elbow.

It felt like bolts of electricity were physically passing back and forth between them, his heartbeat and his breath quickening in irrepressible response. He could’ve been waking from a dream, he thought, the sort that has itself wrapped around so tight when the morning light comes that the line between fantasy and reality is nearly invisible. “I’m sorry, I was just-” he stammered.

Kate’s grip on his arm intensified with her proximity and he looked down for visual evidence that it was actually happening. That she was really there. “Kate,” he began, though he had formed no further words to speak.

“Rick,” she said again, her body even closer this time. “I’m going to do something right now without asking your permission, but I promise you I’ll tell you why after I do it.” She turned once more towards the girls on the lawn, who were now huddled together looking up at the sky, and then she came back to Rick. In her summer Keds, she was considerably shorter than he was, so satisfaction of her impulse required she stand tiptoe. She inched upward before him until she was able to lean forward and capture his lips with her own.

It was gentle and it was brief, but Rick had never in his life felt anything quite like it before. He could’ve sworn he heard a delicate hum of contentment at the moment of contact, and he silently hoped it wasn’t of his own making. Surely the goo-goo eyes his mother accused him of plus that would register high on the Creep-O-Meter.

“Now I’m the one who’s sorry.” He only heard her say it, because his eyes were still closed, the sensation of her lips against his in firm control of his faculties. “But there was just something about that moment that I couldn’t let pass.” She stopped talking but he could feel, somehow, she wasn’t yet through. “Actually, it was everything about that moment.” She exhaled a laugh and a sound that resembled disbelief tumbled out of her. “God, you must think I’m some kind of crazy woman now. We just met and I crashed your family dinner and kissed you out of the blue on your front lawn in front of your daughter.”

Rick wanted to reach out and touch her, take her hand - something - but he thought better of it. Scaring her away was the last thing he wanted to risk doing. “Hey, you haven’t seen a crazy woman until you’ve come to a Richard Castle book signing. You’re not even in the same ballpark, trust me.” Humor was his crutch, his historically successful fallback when uncertainty befell him.

Kate laughed again and he released a silent breath of relief. “Well, I guess, thank you for taking it so well. I don’t often feel compelled to kiss total strangers.” She looked away as she felt her cheeks warm with blush. “Hopefully this isn’t some new weird habit I’ve picked up staying here. It could get awkward if I take it back home with me.”

Rick chuckled himself. “Yeah, maybe a bit, but-” It hadn’t registered at first, what she’d said, his body and mind still reeling from the kiss. When it finally did, when his brain finally processed her words, it was as though the force of a tidal wave hit him square in the chest. “Back home?” he asked, however ill-prepared he was for the answer. “You don’t live here?”

“Oh, no, I’m just here for a few days watching Baxter for a family friend,” she answered, as though he’d just asked her what color the sky was.

Suddenly Rick couldn’t swallow, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t understand how the universe could ever be so cruel.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Rick felt his weight drift forward and he shifted his feet to steady himself. To him, it felt as though the earth cracked wide open beneath him. One evening with this woman, one brief collection of hours would never be enough; certainly not after the divine sensation left behind by the startling brush of her lips against his. He knew that as surely as he knew anything. If that kind of magic could ever be bottled and sold, he’d find a way to possess every last vial.

“A family friend?” he asked her. What a ridiculous question, he thought, far too late.

Still left in a slightly bashful state by her actions, Kate’s finger twisted in the soft curl at the end of her ponytail as she bit gently at her bottom lip. “Usually my parents come out from the city every summer to stay at the house, but they were under a pile of work this week, so I offered to help out,” she explained, sounding not at all fazed by his somewhat tangential inquiry.

Rick’s brain was suddenly inundated with a hundred new questions, though the distraction offered by the endearing play of her mouth limited his ability to actually verbalize any of them to just one. Luckily for him, it was the one atop his list in terms of importance. “That’s nice. That’s nice of you. So, when…How long will you be in town?” He cleared the frog from his throat and silently hoped her answer might be somewhere in the ballpark of forever.

“Well, I can’t say the decision was all that difficult _or_ all that selfless, to be honest. I mean, a few days on the beach where the pretty people play, the smell of the ocean, the sun, and a beautiful house filled with peace, quiet and a crazy dog is exactly what I needed.” She smiled and he melted. “And, on top of all of that, look what happened.”

Rick’s brow crinkled in confusion. “What happened?” he asked, not at all certain where her thought was headed.

Kate looked over her shoulder at the girls again. “I met a cool kid,” she said as she turned back towards him, “a Broadway actress, and a best-selling author. I’m not sure how many other people can say that about a few days out at the beach.”

Rick let out a chuckle of surprise before his trusted coping mechanism kicked in - and then failed him miserably. “And I bet even fewer people can say they’ve _kissed_ a best-selling author at the beach, so…” He was trying to be playful, but it just sounded creepy when he heard it out loud, so he immediately tried to pull back. “Uh, you say you met a Broadway actress, hmm? Do tell.”

Kate laughed as Rick blushed, masked, thankfully, by the relative darkness of night, the glow of the patio lights not powerful enough to expose his shade of pink. “Oh, I’m sure I don’t have the market cornered on that one. Not after they get a glimpse of this place. I gotta tell ya, Rick: chick magnet,” she teased with an emphatic up and down of her head.

"Rumors, all rumors, whatever you’ve heard,” he insisted in a tone of old English literature. “Why, this seaside playground of ours is a beehive of falsehoods. I’ve never entertained any of these ‘chicks’ you speak of.” He crossed his arms in mock indignation, like a character in a play awaiting his next cue.

“Mmhmm,” Kate hummed with overt suspicion.

“Okay, well, maybe one or two.” He backed down quickly. “But-“

“Oh, and there’s always a “but”, isn’t there,” she cut in.

Rick could practically feel her eye roll from where he stood, waggish as it was. “Fine, I won’t share my but with you,” he replied with a feigned pout. “Wait, that didn’t…You know what I mean. I won’t share it, then, not with that attitude.”

“There’s that word magic again,” she teased as she stepped in closer, her hands clasped together in symbolic plea. She nudged his chest with her knuckles when she was near enough and let them remain there as the movement of his chest increased along with his breath. “Pleeease?” she asked, batting her eyelashes. “You know you want to share your but with me, Writer.”

Her use of the nickname hit his heart like Cupid’s arrow and he swallowed deeply. There was no resistance. Not with this woman. Not ever. Acceptance of that fact was as automatic for him as blinking. “Is anyone at all ever able to say no to you?” He was supposed to think that, not say it, of course, but her hands were still at his chest and that gave her an unfair advantage over his brain. “Fine, you win, but don’t get used to it. Usually I’m a better competitor than this. I must be distracted by all the fireworks and stuff.” He looked up into the sky and waved an arm to help illustrate his point, but it was still dark and silent, and Kate just grinned at him. “I was going to say that while there have been one or two other chicks out here at the beach, I’ve never enjoyed the company of any of them more than I have yours. There, happy now?”

Kate pulled her fingers apart and flattened them against his chest. “Kinda, yeah.” She inched up onto her toes so her eyes were level with his. “And now I’m going to go over there and grab the blankets so we can head down to the beach, before I do something else that’ll make me blush.”

“Girls, come on,” Rick hollered with a new, heightened enthusiasm. “Let’s go do this!”

 

**xxxx**

 

Martha had dessert and coffee waiting for the group when they returned from the beach; the former whipped up by their favorite local bakery in town, the latter simple enough that she could manage it on her own, though Rick still always swallowed his first sip with imaginary fingers crossed.

Baxter managed to come out the other side of the fireworks display relatively unscathed, according to Martha, though the slightest of sounds now caused his head to perk up as he snoozed at Kate’s feet. He’d taken to his temporary guardian immediately and quite endearingly, his earlier beach escape attempt aside.

“Thanks again for keeping this guy company tonight, Martha,” Kate said as she rubbed at the end of one of Baxter’s ears. “You guys put on one hell of a show out here. I’m glad I had the chance to see it with you guys.” Her eyes scanned the room from Martha to Lauren to Alexis before finally settling on Rick.

“It was my pleasure, darling. He’s a lovely gentleman and I think we enjoyed ourselves,” Martha answered as Kate and Rick held their shared gaze. “Ah--Alexis, dear, why don’t we head upstairs and change into our pajamas, all right?” In another shining example of world-class Martha Rodgers subtlety, she pushed herself out of her chair and wrangled Alexis and Lauren before they even knew what was happening. “You two just keep doing what you’re doing and we’ll be…” She didn’t even bother to complete her sentence before the three disappeared from view with only a set of giggles left in their wake.

“Well,” Rick began, almost intended as a one word apology, “my mother wins the award for awkward exits, it seems. And I don’t think it would be too much of a stretch to say that she’s probably got an acceptance speech prepared for that too.”

Kate turned her head in the direction of the girls’ exit and then looked back at him. “She’s wonderful. And she loves you almost as much as you love her. I know I’m just a stranger here, but that’s not very difficult to see.”

“Well, she’s a remarkable woman, and she makes it very easy – most of the time.” Rick pushed forward to the edge of his chair. “Can I get you some more coffee or a fourth cookie, perhaps?” He crooked his eyebrow and smiled.

“You noticed, huh?”

“I’m a writer. Noticing is what I do. And I suppose I owe you thanks. If you hadn’t enjoyed them, I would’ve, and I certainly don’t need them,” he said, tapping his belly.

“Fishing for compliments, are we? I see you clearly inherited your mother’s subtlety, Writer.”

The nickname, again. The arrow to his heart, again. “You’re fun, you know that?” Rick told her with a profound sincerity that simply overtook him.

“You’re fun too,” Kate said as she picked at an invisible piece of lint at her knee. “It’s strange, you know? I’ve just met you but it feels like- “ She paused as if to find the right words to continue.

“An old shoe?” Rick jumped in.

Kate smiled. “Exactly, like an old shoe.”

“I know what you mean. Strange,” he murmured, lost in the shared sentiment.

Kate stood after a moment and Baxter popped up onto all fours in reaction to her movement. “Time to head home, buddy. You ready?” Baxter yawned his reply and she and Rick chuckled. “I’d call that a yes.”

Rick got up as well and stepped around the coffee table towards them. “Why don’t you let me give you two a ride home. It’s late.”

“Oh, we appreciate the offer, but we’re fine to walk, thanks. It’s not that far and there are a lot of people out and about tonight.” She and Baxter began the walk towards the door. Rick reached for the handle at the exact moment she did and Kate’s fingers met his instead of the metal she was expecting. “I had a really nice time tonight with your family, Rick,” she said, meeting his eye. “Thank you for making me feel so welcome.”

“I assure you the pleasure has been all ours, Kate.”

She looked down at Baxter and gathered her thoughts. “Look, Rick, I’m leaving in two days, and I know you’re here for time away with your family, but I’d like to invite you to dinner tomorrow night, if you think you might be able to sneak away for a couple of hours.”

Rick swore he could hear a cheer come from upstairs, but he didn’t let the wave of embarrassment he felt delay his answer for a second. “I’d love to. And I’m fairly certain _my family_ can spare me for a little while.” He knew they were listening and then made sure they knew it.

“Great,” Kate said with a knowing glance back towards the staircase. They exchanged phone numbers and Kate told him she’d call with details in the morning. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow night, then,” she said, attaching Baxter’s leash to his collar.

“Tomorrow night,” Rick parroted reverently.

He watched as Kate and Baxter made their way down the driveway towards the street, not wanting to blink and miss one millisecond of it. Two days. She hadn’t answered him when he’d asked earlier and just then realized it. Two days was all he had before she’d be gone. How cruel, he thought as they disappeared from sight. But, then again, he had two days, and he planned on making the very most of them.


	7. Chapter 7

Rick opened up Kate’s text message for the umpteenth time the next morning and read it with the same broad smile he had each and every time. She’d assured him that she and Baxter had arrived home safely, that, no, they hadn’t been kidnapped by Jerry Seinfeld or Billy Joel as he’d feared, but that they had been approached by a Bentley and forced to sip Dom Pérignon against their will - yes, even Baxter. He wondered, as his mind drifted back to the moment she’d disappeared from view at the end of the previous night, how it was possible that he missed someone so much - someone he just met, someone he knew so little about. The how of it all didn’t much matter, though. In his heart, it was fact; he missed Kate terribly, and he couldn’t wait for the day’s hours to melt away so he could see her again.

“Penny for your thoughts, Richard?” Martha breezed by him and beelined for the morning coffee. “Wait, don’t answer that,” she said, thinking better of it and waving him off with a wild arm. “From that look on your face, they might not be mother-appropriate, if you know what I mean.” She looked back over her shoulder and wagged her eyebrows in his direction.

Rick set down his phone and sipped from his mug. “Your code is a tough one to crack, Mother, but I think I get it.” He tossed her a patronizing smile which she missed as she fidgeted at the counter with coffee accoutrements. “And it wasn’t anything like that. I was just thinking about tonight. That’s all.” His voice sounded almost dream-like in its bliss.

“Ah, yes, the lovely Katherine. I must say, your taste is most certainly improving, dear boy.” Martha stepped up to the island and leaned in as though joining some secret faction plotting a coup. “Now, what are we going to do to try and keep her?”

Rick exhaled a chuckle. “First of all, that sounded creepy, even for you. And second of all, _we_ aren’t going to be doing anything. This is just a dinner, Mother, not a Le Carre novel. I’m going to go over there, enjoy a meal, and wish Kate well in the future.” He did his best to sound convincing as Kate’s kiss played on a delicious loop in his mind. He squirmed in his seat and tried futilely to push the titillating image aside.

Martha straightened herself upright and blew a raspberry with her tongue. “Oh, please, Richard. You’ve spent the better part of the last two days in some Katherine-induced love trance. And now the woman requests your company - and your company alone - after you enjoy a magical night together under the glow of a spectacular fireworks display and it’s ‘just a dinner’? Exactly which turnip truck do you think I just fell off of?”

Rick could practically hear her impatient toe tapping as she awaited his response. She always found a way to remind him that she knew him better than anyone else did. He cursed silently and released a deep breath realizing honesty was the only sure way out of the conversation. “I don’t know what it is, Mother. I don’t know what it is about this girl. She’s just…it’s different.”

Martha drew her fingers softly across his cheek and set them to rest on his shoulder. “I can see that, kiddo. I can see that,” she told him, speaking more of her recognition in him than of her perceptions of Kate.

“I’m going to go for a swim, I think, clear my head.” Her motherly hand was still at his shoulder. He squeezed it with his own in silent gratitude before pushing the stool away from the counter and wandering down the hallway.

“That’s a good idea, darling.” She stepped back and watched as he walked off. “You do plan on putting a suit on first, though, right? Richard?”

Rick stopped and looked down at the pajama pants he still had on. Thank God for his mother, he thought, and he turned around for the stairs.

 

**xxxx**

          

Rick spent the remarkably warm morning hours alternating his time between a lounge chair in the sun and the relief of the pool’s water, neither of which did much to calm his insides, as it turned out, but both of which endeavored admirably. By the afternoon, his skin was already an appreciable shade of golden summer, his nose a light pink where he’d applied sunscreen more hastily than he should’ve, and though he really wasn’t in need of either, he opted for a haircut and hot towel shave in town to try and help relax him. Along the way, he stopped to order Kate flowers for the evening and slipped the flower shop’s owner an extra $20.00 to have the bouquet rush delivered to her house. He walked out of the shop with a single, finely wrapped lily to bring along with him later, the tandem purchase covering both the fun of surprise and the selfish pleasure of face-to-face reaction.

Kate insisted he come over empty-handed, despite his insistence upon contributing something, however minimal, to the evening. “All I want you to bring is yourself,” she told him that morning, before punctuating it with a delicate and sincere “Please?” He conceded, of course - her evening, her wishes - but he pulled out a bottle of 2008 Pahlmeyer, anyway, just in case she might allow him to get away with it. His shower was hot and his cotton ensemble cool, the day’s early heat loitering into evening, and his body brimmed with anticipation. He had no idea what was to come of that night, but he knew exactly what he wanted for the first time in a long time and that brought with it a modicum of peace.

The front door was open when Rick arrived, the late sun’s rays and the house’s angular shadows in battle along the long, hardwood entryway. Music floated towards him from a distant room, and along with it Kate’s voice, seemingly unencumbered by the possibility of an audience - utterly free. He leaned against the doorway and listened for a long moment, smiled with the ebb and flow of her harmony, content to remain there, undiscovered, for as long as the music inspired her; an observer he was and would always be, after all, and she had quickly become one of his favorite subjects.

When the song finally faded into silence, Rick ran his fingers through his freshly trimmed hair one last time and knocked at the open door. Baxter was first on scene, minus a bark but with an evident heightened level of excitement as he balanced his two front paws at Rick’s waist in greeting. With the bottle of wine in one hand and the single flower in the other, Rick wasn’t able to offer anything but a verbal “Baxterrrrr!,” but that seemed enough to appease the pooch who dropped back to the ground and scampered down the hallway from which he came.

“Rick? Is that you?” Kate’s voice called out, echoing against the towering walls of the open foyer.

“’Tis I,” he replied, stepping a foot inside as she approached. She was a vision. A summer dress, all in white, hung exquisitely from her otherwise bare shoulders, the intricate pattern of lace along its edge offering a captivating whisper of golden skin. Her hair was pulled loosely back from her face and the soft orange light of the sun from behind illuminated it like fire. “You look beautiful,” he told her, though the word, he knew, was wholly inadequate.

“Why thank you, so do you. A haircut and everything, huh?” She reached up and pushed a strand of hair off his forehead. “You know, I was actually going to tell you it was looking a bit ratty. You a mind reader in your spare time or something?” she teased.

“Hey, keep that up and this goes to Baxter.” He extended the lily and quickly pulled it back in.

“Guess I’ll just have to settle for the _enormous_ bouquet that was dropped off earlier, then.” She smiled. “They’re incredible, Rick, thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

Rick handed her the lily with a gentle bow of his head. “And one more for good measure, dear hostess. I hope they brought a smile to your day, just as you have, mine.”

Kate drew in the scent of the flower and invited him to join her inside. Rick took in the bit of the house he could see as they moved along and was immediately smitten with its simple elegance and its light. It was far more modest a home than his, but that only seemed to add to its charm. And though it wasn’t her home, it seemed to suit Kate quite well. She led him down the hallway and into the open kitchen where, without speaking a word, she abruptly stopped walking, spun around, and pressed her lips against his, nearly sending him toppling backward from the unanticipated advance.

“Wow!” he exclaimed with shock as she relinquished her grip on the bit of his shirt she’d grabbed hold of for leverage. “That was--” He couldn’t even finish the sentence. That was more things than words existed to describe it.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Kate said. “I keep doing this. I don’t normally do this. Really. I just thought…I thought if I got it out of the way, it might take the awkward pressure off later, you know?”

Her fluster was so adorable, so endearing, he wanted to grab her and kiss her all night long. He had to admit he enjoyed being the recipient of the grabbing thus far, though. “I see,” he said, drawing his thumb along the shine she’d left on his lip, “and I must tell you I really applaud your go-getter attitude. Get the awkward out of the way early I always say. Not that anything about you kissing me is awkward. At all. In any way. Ever.” They both laughed, releasing any tension at all that may have existed.

“I really do like your hair,” she told him before turning her attention towards the nearby dining room table. “And these flowers are really beautiful, Rick, thank you so much, again.”

“You’re welcome. I’m very happy you like them.” He looked down and realized he was still holding the bottle of wine in his hand. “Oh, and, I know you insisted I come empty-handed, but I found this in my collection at the house and thought it might be nice to share it. I hope you don’t mind.”

She reached out and took the bottle from him. “Well, you do seem like a bit of a rule breaker to me, Writer, and I think it’s been pretty clear where my compass points these days as far as doing what I should and shouldn’t, so, no, I don’t mind. Would you care for some now? Dinner’s not quite ready.”

“Absolutely, yeah, just point me in the direction of a bottle opener,” he answered, moving into the kitchen. “It smells great, whatever it is. I mean, I’m sure it’s no filet feast, but…” He winked and she smiled.

“Oh, far be it from me to think I could ever out-cook a man and his grill,” she retorted sarcastically. “What is it with men and those things, anyway?” She eyed him up and down as she pulled the bottle opener from a drawer. “Overcompensating, perhaps.”

Rick understood exactly what she was intimating, of course – the eyes, the tone. “That’s…I—“

“Pour, Writer,” she insisted playfully. “Let’s go sit outside and watch the show.”

 

**xxxx**

 

Outside on the deck they sat close - in separate chairs, but in chairs pulled to a near touch - and they watched as the summer sky turned from orange to pink to purple in less time than it took to finish a first glass of wine. The sun was done for the day, but the heat was stubborn in its insistence, and though tiny beads of perspiration took up residency above Rick’s upper lip, he felt no desire to seek relief, to move from his spot next to Kate.

There were moments of quiet when neither said a word, but those moments were anything but uncomfortable. For Rick they were reflective, to be treasured in their brevity because that was all he had. He couldn’t have foreseen any of this happening - Kate happening - but she was there, and in the span of just a few days she’d affected him in a way no one had before. So without anything to lose, with her leaving tomorrow, with the sunset and the singing and the white lace, Rick reached over and silently asked for her hand with his own, and Kate gave it willingly, their fingers folded together as if they were always meant to be.

“Look, Kate,” he began, his head at rest against the back of his chair but his eyes on her, “I don’t know how this is all going to come out and I’m pretty sure there’ll be a line formed to have my writer’s license revoked after I say it, but… I’ve spent the past few days fantastically lost in the surprise that has been you. I’m a twice-divorced single father who lives with his mother and who writes books that come too easily to him to be meaningful anymore. I don’t have any idea where you came from or who saw fit to rain such riches down upon me now, but I’m so very grateful for how I came to be in the right place at the right time, out on that beach the other day with you.”

He sat forward and twisted his body in his chair to face her, his hand still locked tightly with hers, their eyes the very same, and he continued. “Whatever this is, I’m not ready to say goodbye to it tomorrow. And I know this may all sound crazy to you, though, as I recall, you _have_ kissed me twice already,” he said and drew a chuckle, “but I want to see you again, or as much as possible, whatever I have to do and wherever I have to go to make that happen – planes, trains, dog sleds, doesn’t matter.”

All Kate could do was smile. She set down her wine glass and enveloped his hand with both of hers. “Rick, I don’t think--“ She paused and looked away, tried to hide her imminent laughter as best she could.

Her words hit him with a sting and he felt his stomach drop, his skin go pale.

“I don’t think a dog sled is going to be necessary, Writer,” she went on, leaning her body in towards his. “You can just hop on the subway.” She pressed her lips against the warmth of his cheek and whispered “I live in Brooklyn.”

 

**xxxx**

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
